


The Loser

by goetterdamerung



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-12-03
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 11:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goetterdamerung/pseuds/goetterdamerung
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In love's game, there isn't always a happy ending... eventually someone is the loser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kiss, kill... kiss or kill... fuck or fight?

His hair lies lank and oily in my fist; he obviously hasn't had a shower since finishing on set... Christ, sweaty and musky all over.

The thought of taking him while he's all sweaty and rank, fucking him from behind as I pin him against the wall, hard and fast, gets my prick hard as rock... fuck wins.

Yanking his head to almost to mine, I can see the fear lurking deep in his eyes, almost hiding his lust, but his cock ain't lying, no, his cock trapped hard beneath his jeans; clearly outlined... he dressed to the left this morning.

Breathing down at him through my nose in disdain, letting it ghost across his face, the couple of Jack's I downed earlier wafting over and around him now mingling with his own stale scent.

"You want this Jar, I know it, your cock knows it and your ass will know it", all but spitting in his face, my voice is nothing but sheer contempt.

Stepping in closer, forcing him against the wall, head still held back by his hair, I grind my crotch into his... his own hardness puts paid to his next words.

"Come on Jens, you know I ain't into guys", claims the big man with the little whimper, now which do I believe, his lies... or his thighs?

"Right fagot and I suppose this just means you're happy to see me? Huh?" Grinding the palm of my hand into his crotch just to prove the point... soon answered with a combined whimper groan from him.

"Thought so."

Giving his crotch a harsh squeeze and a not so gentle 'farewell for now' pat, I close the final distance between us so we are crotch to crotch and chest to chest.

Forcing his lips to mine, nibbling and biting at them till he surrenders and opens up, I claim them forcefully. My tongue deep in his throat, his tongue lying passive beneath mine, until I gentle the kiss slightly, easing back my tongue, caressing his along the edges until he joins in.

Letting go of his hair, I slide my hand down to the back of his neck, working the muscles with my thumb until an answering groan is forced from his lips and swallowed by me.

Tracing the back of my fingers down his cheek I have to ask, "Why Jar? Why is it always a battle with you?" I have to ask, but I know the answer before it leaves his lips.

"You know why Jens." His voice bored, as if we have had this discussion a hundred times... which we have.

"Just pretend I don't Jar; just for once give me an answer that means something other than your ridiculous pride and pseudo masculinity."

I can't help it, I know the fucking answer, and it is the same every time; image to protect, loss of his fucking so-called masculinity... the fact I'm fucking shorter than him.

Fuck, I'm over six foot, that's fucking tall enough for anyone... with the exception of his royal nibs that is.

But that is not quite it either, simply put Jar loves wild, hard sex... loved to be fucked within an inch of his life, ridden hard and put away wet whatever you want to call it... and yet he is too fucking gutless to admit it to anyone, including me... which if you think about it is just plain fucking stupid seeing as I'm the one putting my back out each night making sure he gets off how he wants.

Just once I'd like to do something regular, like a meal or a drink beforehand. Just unwind a bit.

I'd like to take him in my arms and slowly slide into him while looking into his eyes for once. I'm sick to death of this from behind crap, I want to see his face as he blows, to know I did that to him... instead all I get is the back of his head slamming into my cheek and invective.

Fucking Jared Padalecki, and I mean that in every sense, it is a dangerous game and one I'm not sure I want to play anymore.

"Look Jar, forget it, I'm too tired to play this crap anymore. I can't always be the one who has to deal with your crap. I don't care that you're gagging for a fuck, I don't care that your precious ego is bigger than your inseam." Resignation colours my voice a murky grey, all colour and tone stripped from it.

"Go sleep in 'your' bedroom, I can't look at you anymore."

Dropping both hands to my sides, I turn around and leave the bedroom in search of Jack; he always knows how to make me feel better.

"Jens, I..."

I throw my hand up to stop him; all ghetto like, Christ I have to stop watching Jerry Springer. Surprisingly, it works and I leave the room without another word spoken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blessed silence at last, looking blearily at the clock I figure it is about three quarters of a bottle of Jack past fuck knows... that sounds about right.

I haven't seen Jared either, haven't seen him, but certainly heard him. I think I've heard him destroying everything in that room. I know I heard the bookcase get upended and I'm pretty sure the bed is in pieces now as well.

Raising my glass I blink into it, not sure where Jack went, he was in there before... at least I think he was. Ah, yup, there he is, hiding from Jared in the bottle... better get him out of there, he's probably lonely... god knows I am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah fuck my head, this is not good, my head is throbbing, I reek of bourbon and I'm curled up on the couch. Trying to sort through hazy memories the only thing I can recall is Jared... me walking out on Jared, then diving head first into a bottle of grog.

"Smart move Ackles, smart fucking move." No point yelling at myself but anything is better than this god awful silence.

Fucking men, just why couldn't I have been normal, got off on chicks, go muff diving? Nah, course not Jensen, you have to go and be all fucking queer so you can fuck yourself up by falling in love with the one son of a bitch who doesn't deserve it. The using cunt that he is.

No fucking point crying over him, even though I know it is useless as helpless tears sting my eyes.

"Fucking cunt." More resigned than angry, talk about going down for the l final count, that's me, down and out. Jared Padalecki versus Jensen Ackles, with Ackles down in the final round with a TKO, match over, title lost... I'm officially the loser.


	2. Chapter 2

Kiss, kill... kiss or kill... fuck or fight?

His hair lies lank and oily in my fist; he obviously hasn't had a shower since finishing on set... Christ, sweaty and musky all over.

The thought of taking him while he's all sweaty and rank, fucking him from behind as I pin him against the wall, hard and fast, gets my prick hard as rock... fuck wins.

Yanking his head to almost to mine, I can see the fear lurking deep in his eyes, almost hiding his lust, but his cock ain't lying, no, his cock trapped hard beneath his jeans; clearly outlined... he dressed to the left this morning.

Breathing down at him through my nose in disdain, letting it ghost across his face, the couple of Jack's I downed earlier wafting over and around him now mingling with his own stale scent.

"You want this Jar, I know it, your cock knows it and your ass will know it", all but spitting in his face, my voice is nothing but sheer contempt.

Stepping in closer, forcing him against the wall, head still held back by his hair, I grind my crotch into his... his own hardness puts paid to his next words.

"Come on Jens, you know I ain't into guys", claims the big man with the little whimper, now which do I believe, his lies... or his thighs?

"Right fagot and I suppose this just means you're happy to see me? Huh?" Grinding the palm of my hand into his crotch just to prove the point... soon answered with a combined whimper groan from him.

"Thought so."

Giving his crotch a harsh squeeze and a not so gentle 'farewell for now' pat, I close the final distance between us so we are crotch to crotch and chest to chest.

Forcing his lips to mine, nibbling and biting at them till he surrenders and opens up, I claim them forcefully. My tongue deep in his throat, his tongue lying passive beneath mine, until I gentle the kiss slightly, easing back my tongue, caressing his along the edges until he joins in.

Letting go of his hair, I slide my hand down to the back of his neck, working the muscles with my thumb until an answering groan is forced from his lips and swallowed by me.

Tracing the back of my fingers down his cheek I have to ask, "Why Jar? Why is it always a battle with you?" I have to ask, but I know the answer before it leaves his lips.

"You know why Jens." His voice bored, as if we have had this discussion a hundred times... which we have.

"Just pretend I don't Jar; just for once give me an answer that means something other than your ridiculous pride and pseudo masculinity."

I can't help it, I know the fucking answer, and it is the same every time; image to protect, loss of his fucking so-called masculinity... the fact I'm fucking shorter than him.

Fuck, I'm over six foot, that's fucking tall enough for anyone... with the exception of his royal nibs that is.

But that is not quite it either, simply put Jar loves wild, hard sex... loved to be fucked within an inch of his life, ridden hard and put away wet whatever you want to call it... and yet he is too fucking gutless to admit it to anyone, including me... which if you think about it is just plain fucking stupid seeing as I'm the one putting my back out each night making sure he gets off how he wants.

Just once I'd like to do something regular, like a meal or a drink beforehand. Just unwind a bit.

I'd like to take him in my arms and slowly slide into him while looking into his eyes for once. I'm sick to death of this from behind crap, I want to see his face as he blows, to know I did that to him... instead all I get is the back of his head slamming into my cheek and invective.

Fucking Jared Padalecki, and I mean that in every sense, it is a dangerous game and one I'm not sure I want to play anymore.

"Look Jar, forget it, I'm too tired to play this crap anymore. I can't always be the one who has to deal with your crap. I don't care that you're gagging for a fuck, I don't care that your precious ego is bigger than your inseam." Resignation colours my voice a murky grey, all colour and tone stripped from it.

"Go sleep in 'your' bedroom, I can't look at you anymore."

Dropping both hands to my sides, I turn around and leave the bedroom in search of Jack; he always knows how to make me feel better.

"Jens, I..."

I throw my hand up to stop him; all ghetto like, Christ I have to stop watching Jerry Springer. Surprisingly, it works and I leave the room without another word spoken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blessed silence at last, looking blearily at the clock I figure it is about three quarters of a bottle of Jack past fuck knows... that sounds about right.

I haven't seen Jared either, haven't seen him, but certainly heard him. I think I've heard him destroying everything in that room. I know I heard the bookcase get upended and I'm pretty sure the bed is in pieces now as well.

Raising my glass I blink into it, not sure where Jack went, he was in there before... at least I think he was. Ah, yup, there he is, hiding from Jared in the bottle... better get him out of there, he's probably lonely... god knows I am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ah fuck my head, this is not good, my head is throbbing, I reek of bourbon and I'm curled up on the couch. Trying to sort through hazy memories the only thing I can recall is Jared... me walking out on Jared, then diving head first into a bottle of grog.

"Smart move Ackles, smart fucking move." No point yelling at myself but anything is better than this god awful silence.

Fucking men, just why couldn't I have been normal, got off on chicks, go muff diving? Nah, course not Jensen, you have to go and be all fucking queer so you can fuck yourself up by falling in love with the one son of a bitch who doesn't deserve it. The using cunt that he is.

No fucking point crying over him, even though I know it is useless as helpless tears sting my eyes.

"Fucking cunt." More resigned than angry, talk about going down for the l final count, that's me, down and out. Jared Padalecki versus Jensen Ackles, with Ackles down in the final round with a TKO, match over, title lost... I'm officially the loser.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm not sure anymore if these tears are for hurt, anger or pain... it all feels disconnected. There are so many ways I could have handled that; but no, like a dick I have to go for the melodramatic version. This is what I mean... we're both trapped in this viscous cycle until one of us breaks free... or snaps completely.

He's still sitting there; his eyes haven't left where I've curled up on the couch. His eyes... that's one of the first things I noticed about him, unfathomable depths shrouded in secrets all wrapped in this perfect package.

Goes to show you what I know, doesn't it?

Now I can tell exactly what he is thinking just by looking at his eyes, I can see when he's lying, can see when he's horny and I can see when he's hurt; those being the most common expressions he has these days.

I don't think I know how to stop this insanity barring one of us leaving. Christ, Freud would have had a field day with us... Jung as well, come to think of it and Kinsey... well, best to leave that well the fuck alone.

Just off the top of my head, we have a co-dependent, dysfunctional psycho-sexual relationship with self image angst and passive aggressive tendencies. We also have attention seeking, self mutilation and alcoholism to boot. Yup, no shrink would touch us with a ten foot bargepole

Still, something has to be done about this situation otherwise I might as well book myself accommodation at the nearest rubber room resort for the next ten or fifteen years or so.

Did I mention masochism as one of my faults as well?

No choices left got to try and at least get some space going between us. No game plan ready, no strategy either, gonna have to wing it and hope for the best.

Grabbing the couch throw and wrapping it around my shoulders, I grunt at the effort required to haul my ass up off the couch again and trudge exactly half the distance to where Jared still sits.

"Jared, come here... sit down here, we have to talk." Resignation and pain make my voice sharper than I intended, but it seems to have done the trick as Jared's eyes lock onto mine and a minute nod is sent my way.

Practically falling where I stand, I bring my legs in close to my body and wrap my arms around them... an eerie initiation of Jared's earlier position. Resting my head on my knees I watch as Jared slowly gets to his knees and crawls over to where I'm seated.

Arrogant bastard still hasn't put any clothes on, how the fuck am I supposed to think when he's sitting there like that?

Ripping the throw from around me, I pelt it at Jared, "Wrap this around you, I don't need to see everything you've got, I've been there done that with it all." Harsh, but necessary... I really don't want to be staring at his prick when I'm trying to break up with him... kind of defeats the purpose really.

The bastard just grins smugly at me, this is going to stop and stop now.  
Closing my eyes briefly and breathing in slowly lets me calm down before I let rip at him yet again... and we know how well that went last time.

"We can't go on like this anymore Jar, it's killing me. Just answer me why, why cut yourself up and shit? I know it is only superficial cuts, only there to get me to do as you want, but why... why do it?"

Fuck, didn't want half that crap to come out, it just seemed I opened my mouth and the fucking truth came out. Shit, talk about negotiating from a position of weakness.

He still hasn't even taken breath to reply, just glued his eyes to mine, that stupid smirk still fixed in place. I really want to knock it off his face, but I know that'll just start all the same crap over again.

Fuck, there's really no point trying, all he's going to do is just grin inanely at me and refuse to talk about anything... did I really expect any different...? Rhetorical question there.

"Fine, that answers that then, no point continuing is there? I'll pack what's left of my shit and move out today."

No fucking response, I've fucking had it; I can't believe it has taken me this long to wise the fuck up.

"Nice to know you Jar, nice to fucking know ya."

Heaving to my feet I am stopped by Jared's hand darting out and catching my arm tightly.

"You're not leaving." Jared finally speaks, as flat and unemotional as it is.

"Piss off Jared, I'm gone, you've had every fucking chance under the sun... I'm sick to death of your crap."

Shaking his hand off is easier than I thought it would be, that is until I get about three steps away and get taken out at the knees by a dive tackle.

"You're not fucking going anywhere Jens" his voice slightly muffled with his face pressed to my thigh.

"Jar, we can't keep on like this, you have to know that." Fuck, why don't I just lie down and wave the white flag already.

"You can't leave me Jen... I'll end up losing it if you go." Never a truer word has been spoken... or mumbled in this case.

Have you ever been so angry with someone that you literally shake with the rage? Right, now try that as well feeling so impotently helpless that everything is numb around you. Capitulation is just around the corner, I can't think straight with him like this... so much like the Jared I thought I knew all those years ago.

With a self deprecating snort, I feel the anger and fire cool down and ice numbness take their place. Screwing my eyes tightly shut I finally submit to his will again, the taste of which is like ashes in my mouth.

Once more Jared Padalecki gets his way and I give in once more.

Reaching out to cup his cheek, the very one stained with my blood, I give in and pull him up level with me.

With a satisfied sigh Jared drops his head on my shoulder as I card my finger absently through his hair... staring blankly into the air and contemplating the feeling of loss once more.


	4. Chapter 4

This is fucked, only half an hour ago I'm ready to walk out on him, now here he is wrapped around me like a deranged octopus; his face nuzzling my chest and his fingers ghosting up and down my sides.

"You're a sick cunt Jar; positively fucked in the head... you know that?" Resigned once more to continuing this circle of shit we have going.

You know what my problem is? I am that fucking stupidly in love with the guy, that as long as he is here next to me, I'll put up with all his games and crap just to have him in my arms... I'm beginning to wonder who the sick fucker really is... him or me.

I'm not really expecting an answer from him, so his response comes as a shock to me.

"I know... always been this way." His face hard against my chest muffles his voice as his lips whisper across my skin with each word he speaks.

Feeling moisture roll down my chest and thinking that the cut on my chest was still seeping a little blood, turning my head to look down; it is not blood I see, but two tears slowly making their way down my front and pooling in the hollow of my stomach.

"Oh Jar... you're driving me nuts here" and he is, he really is driving me nuts... but even that doesn't stop me from leaning a little further down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head, before adding, "but even still Jar... I can't help myself... I still love you, you crazy bastard."

And I guess that says it all now, doesn't it?

~**~

Easing both of us down to the floor and bringing him level with me so we are looking each other eye to eye; I rest my forehead against his and my arms curl protectively around him, pulling him in closer and I let out a sigh as I feel him mould himself against me... everything feeling right for the first time in a very, very long time. I knew it wouldn't last, but come hell or high water I would enjoy it while it did.

Gently nudging his head back slightly, I make my way down his face until our mouths meet, letting my tongue flicker against his lightly parted lips, teasing them gently... softly demanding entry as I capture his bottom lip between my teeth and letting his tongue flicker against my upper lip.

Rolling him over onto his back, my weight holding him down, elicits a moan from deep within both of us as our kisses become more frantic and demanding, his whole body undulating beneath mine, each rise of his hips met by the downward thrust of my own.

I could stay in this moment forever, but Jared is as determined as ever, "Fuck me Jens, Fuck me." I feel his legs spread beneath mine and come up and wrap themselves around my back, his hips canting forward and up, trying to get his hole in line with my cock.

Gripping both his hands in mine, I bring them above his head and hold them there as I attack his neck, pinching the thin skin between my teeth before letting my tongue soothe the sting away. Running my stubble along the side of his face and panting heavily into his ear, "You can fucking well wait till I'm good and ready."  
Truth be told, I'm so turned on and horny as fuck, this is the first time he's wanted face to face and I don't want it to be over just yet... which would be about ten seconds after I entered him if I didn't calm myself down a bit first.

"Kiss me Jar, kiss me" I'm begging here and I don't give a flying fuck, need to feel his lips on mine, need to feel that connection that has been missing for so long.

Playful nips is about all I getting here and frustration is driving me wild; no longer caring, I force his head still and claim his mouth as my own... fucking his mouth with my tongue, his own cries and moans drowned out by my own.

Need to feel his mouth 'round my cock, force myself hard and deep down his throat, feel his lips and tongue surround my prick as I fuck myself deeper and deeper down his throat.

Letting go of his hands and raising myself up, the added pressure against my cock drags a needy groan from me. Breaking the grip his legs have around my waist, I surge forwards till my cock sits heavily across his mouth... my eyes begging him to take it into his mouth.

Feeling his tongue slide along the underside of my prick is my undoing, "Suck it, fucking suck it." Desperation is driving me wild and his teasing is getting close to breaking me.

The whimper I make as he finally relents and takes me deep in his throat would be embarrassing if I actually cared any longer... all I needed to be was embedded deep inside him, either hole... I was beyond being fussy.

What he was doing with his tongue was nothing short of pure filth as his hands went behind me and pushed my ass forwards, plunging me deeper as he choked around a throat-full of cock, but still kept sucking and swallowing.

Pulling out before I blew down his throat there and then and looking down at his face; his lips swollen and bruised, eyes almost black with a feral glint showing and his face looking as debauched as I have ever seen it.

Scrabbling down his body till I'm eye level with his straining cock, the head flushed a dull purple and leaking from the tip leaving crystal strands as his cock throbbed and bobbed against his body. Taking a quick breath, I swallow him down to his balls, ignoring the overpowering need to gag as I force more and more of him in my mouth till his balls hit my chin. Rolling his balls in my fingers and tracing beneath them, searching for his sweat-slicked hole. Letting his cock slip out of my mouth I move further down... my tongue flicking at his balls as I go further down.

Lifting his legs either side of my head and bringing his ass high in the air, I blow gently across his exposed hole and watch as he convulsively clenches and relaxes his hole before diving tongue first into it myself.

Musky, earthy taste surrounds me as his ass relaxes around my tongue, letting me fuck him deeper and deeper with my tongue. His moans and cries more and more incoherent as his head thrashes from side to side, all the while thrusting his ass higher and higher in the air... begging for more, for deeper, just to fuck him for fuck's sake.

For once what he wants and what I want match.

"We're doing it my way" I finally manage to gasp as such a desperate need sweeps over me.

"Don't care... just get in me for Christ's sake."

I've never seen him so totally into it, his cock bouncing as his ass clenches spasmodically, he's practically gagging for it.

Dragging his hips over till they hit my knees, I roll his legs up and over his shoulders so his feet touch the floor behind his head, his hole so open and ready. Rising up I aim my cock straight at his hole then lay my whole body weight along him and slowly sink into him from gravity alone.

I can feel the trembling in his thighs as the unaccustomed position puts unexpected strain on the muscles. My hands above his head on the floor, my hips at an angle to his hole, short, sharp thrusts... each one slamming into his prostate as I devour his mouth.

I feel him clench around me as I rut into him.

"More fuck you... harder, more." He's fucking sobbing as each thrust goes right through him, but I need more, I need to be deeper.

Bringing his legs forward to my hook over my shoulders, I raise up on my knees fully and allow myself to slowly pull right out of him.

"Look at me, fucking look at me Jar." Harsh and commanding.

Holding still until he does seems like an age, but he finally locks eyes with me.

Sliding slowly into him, not stopping till my balls rest against his ass, I grip his prick in my hand and slowly pull my cock almost out again, matching the rhythm of my stroke on his cock to the thrusts of my cock; long, leisurely, languorous stroke designed to drive both of us crazy with the need for more.

"Jens... please... more... need more." His eyes still haven't left mine and with my own need for more I comply.

Revving up slightly, a little more of a snap to my hips as I hit the deepest parts of him only to pull out and repeat over and over, both of us staring at the other.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou" A liturgy tumbles from my mouth as the pace increases until I am driving into him.

Feeling his ass clamp down hard I know he's about to blow, ramming my cock harder and harder into him as the first stream of come explodes from him and lands on his neck and face, each thrust forces more come out of him until he is nothing more than a quivering wreck.

"Love you Jens." So soft, but I hear it and let my own release hit as lights dance in front of my eyes until the whole world turns grey then black and I hear and feel nothing more.


	5. Chapter 5

I suppose I could say the next few days were the best we've ever had together... but that would mean that I am deaf, dumb, blind and an idiot to boot... well scratch the deaf, dumb and blind thing, I'll cop being an idiot.

Where before everything was an uphill battle with Jared, now he is just so fucking passive and agreeable it's like I'm living with a fucking Stepford Wife. He's more than happy to go along with anything I suggest... and he's as miserable as anything. We come home from the set and he's on his knees blowing me or he's leading me to the bedroom and slowly riding my cock till we both come all over the place. He never forgets to tell me that he loves me... this coming from a guy that couldn't even fuck face to face before!

It's gotten to the point that people on set are asking questions, none of which I want to answer. It's gotten to the point that I am stuck playing amateur shrink... got to love the internet for that. According to some simple research Jared could be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder, Manic Depression, Bi-Polar disorder, hormone imbalance, Type I Diabetes and so on. None of which I can do a fucking thing about.

He told me he was going out with a few of the guys from the set for a couple of drinks, Jar speak for getting shitfaced, but he should be back before midnight... that passed four hours ago.

~**~

The sound of glass breaking wakes me from my stupor, sunlight is streaming through the windows and my feet are wet from where the glass dropped and smashed, remnants of the bourbon splashed over the floor and my feet. Barely with it, I struggle to open my eyes properly and when I do... I wish I hadn't.

Jared, looking at me with murder in his eyes, "Couldn't help yourself... could ya?" His voice mocking and harsh, "just had to go and get pissed the minute I'm not around."

My mouth is thick and dry, I can't even string a few words together coherently, but try any case, "Youth thuposed t'be out wit' t' boyths... lef' me here 'lone." Pathetic, fucking pathetic Jensen.

Judging by the look on Jared's face, he agrees completely. "You fucking dick, I went out with a couple of friends so I could tell them."

Half pissed or not, that still didn't make any sense.

"Wha'?"

"Us, you dick... I told them about me... and about us." Fear entering his voice and apprehension in his eyes.

As his words filter through my drink soaked brain, my sobriety level increases exponentially. "Are you fucking mad? You can't even admit you're gay to me... and I'm the guy fucking you. Yet you fucking decide to spill all to a few people we have nothing to do with except for seeing them on he set? What the fuck were you thinking?"

That does it, all traces of drink gone and I am cold sober and fucking furious. Standing in a rush, the sudden pain in my foot doesn't make any sense until I look down.

"FUCK!" Blood pissing out of my foot where it came down heavily onto the broken glass.

"Shit, shit, shit." That fucking hurts.

Jared stands frozen looking down at my foot, "Don't just fucking stand there, go get the kit you dick." I've never been good with pain; it always makes me a snarky son of a bitch.

Jared runs back with the kit and a bowl, the irony doesn't escape me at all... usually I'm the one patching him up. The rueful smile that graces Jared's face for a moment tells me he also appreciates the irony.

"Look at me Jens," grasping my jaw reminiscent of my usual trick, "Yes, me... us. I've never told a single person the truth before... not even myself. Yeah, I got problems, everyone has, but I'm trying to deal... I don't need you going all pisshead on me as well."

This is a new one, he's barely looking at me, concentrating on patching up my foot and having the gall to have a go at me about my drinking... fucking hypocrite.

Opening my mouth to respond, I'm shocked when his hand covers my mouth.

"Oi, you don't get to but in yet... I'm still talking. Do you have any idea what it is like being with you sometimes? Everyone seems to think you're the perfect one, can't do no wrong. They're fucking crazy, you're just as bad as the rest of us slobs... you just make sure your public don't see what you're really like, and you call me a fucking hypocrite."

A touch of the old Jared is peeking out; I'm not sure whether to be thankful or terrified.

"As I said before, yeah... I got problems, big fucking problems if you want me to be honest about it, but I'm working on 'em. You got any idea how fucking hard it was to tell those guys I like it up the ass? How hard it was that I am in fucking love with a guy, let alone in love with you? You got no fucking clue; everything is perfect in your little world... I'm just the dirty little secret."

Hissing through my teeth as his hands turn rough on my cut foot, certainly not because his barbs hit home... besides, I'm not the one turning drama queen with a pair of box-cutters and artistically arranged cuts and such. There's no fucking way I'm wearing that.

"There's a heap of shit that's happened which you know nothing about and I'm not ready yet to tell you... but I want to be able to. I need you to be there, not head first in a bottle of Jacks. Ya get me?"

Shit, why do I get the feeling I've just had my legs taken out from under me?

"Just answer me one question Jared, does any of this stuff have anything to do with why you gotta cut yourself and shit? Cos I gotta tell ya, that shit scares the crap outta me." And it does, believe me; I still have nightmares about him cutting himself that bad I can't do anything about it to help. Then something else he said made me sit up and listen...so to speak, "and did I hear you right before, you told the guys you were in love with me?" I can't help it, got the goofy grin plastered all over my face, I can feel it.

A soft snort is the only response I get, but that's enough... at least for the second part, I'm still waiting for an answer for the first part.

Running my thumb down his cheek I ask again, "You don't have to tell me about it yet, but I need to know if this thing in the past is what causes you to pull this shit you do? Cos, I can't deal with that any more ya know?"

This is it, if he answers me, then maybe we can sort this shit out, otherwise...

"Yeah... big part really, but that's shit I can't talk about yet... not for a long time even. I just need you to know I'm not crazy, not really, I just can't deal with things sometimes."

I nod, it's enough.

"You finished with my foot yet, cos I really wanna kiss you now."

His filthy grin is all the answer I need.


End file.
